


Buzzcuts and lipstick stains

by Nyxisalesbian



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Overly descriptive fluff, Temperature is mentioned and I use Celsius cause the imperial system is trash, also trans not that it’s in any way relevant but you tag her as cis when it’s not relevant so..., katya is femme, trixie is butch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 01:11:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17091263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxisalesbian/pseuds/Nyxisalesbian
Summary: Katyas morning coffee run to please her sleepy hungover girlfriend





	Buzzcuts and lipstick stains

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I’ve ever posted and surprisingly I’m really proud of it, thank you to everyone who encouraged me <3

When Katya wakes up it’s with an ache in her feet and the heavy feeling of makeup that’s been on too long, she’d been too drunk for proper skin care last night she supposes.

 

They’d gone out dancing. violet was performing her burlesque somewhere new and had dragged them out to celebrate after. The night had ended after three different clubs with greasy chips and giggling to themselves as they unlocked the apartment door with the sun peaking over the horizon. It had been a kind of fun they hadn’t had in a while, getting dressed up to dance the night away. The ache in her feet and head were entirely worth it; to have Trixie twirl her over and over and feel her skirt flare out and see the sparkle of the sequins. Still worth it when she’d tripped and almost fallen, because Trixie had caught her and tucked her close to her chest with a sweet “careful!” giggled into Katya’s hair as they swayed softly in a way entirely out of place in the night club. 

 

The light through the curtains is every bit as blaring as the strobe lights had been last night and the need to shield her eyes brings her out of her recollection. Rolling over makes a large lump of blankets visible, the only thing visible is the very top of Trixies buzzed head. The rest hidden by the way she’d encapsulated herself in the blankets. It had been like this as long as they’d lived together. Trixie stole blankets, it was who she was. But Katya has never entirely acclimated to American heat, despite having only lived in Russia 7 years compared to 24 in the states, and was happy to forego the dense pile of decorative blankets Trixie had amassed. On the frequent occasions that Trixie dragged her into the cocoon with her they both woke sticky with sweat, but Trixie never minded. 

 

Reaching for the edge of the innermost doona Katya tries to reach her sleepy girlfriend but is met only with a grumpy stare as Trixie allows the blankets to be lowered just enough to peer out of. She hadn’t washed her makeup off either but she had been wearing decidedly less in the first place, only a smudge of eyeliner with a little glitter “to match your pretty skirt”. It’s enough to make the annoyed set of her eyes extra vivid. 

 

“No” her voice still heavy with sleep making what was intended as stern come out whiny. 

 

“No?” Katya pulled at the blankets a little more, a smile pushing into place at the adorable picture Trixie made. 

 

“No” with even less force but matched with Trixie pulling the blankets over her head again to disappear back into the warmth and comfort.

 

Coffee, that’s what they need. 

 

Standing up Katya notices the sting of blisters on her feet. She grabs a shirt off the floor. It’s Trixies shirt. A cozy grey flannel well worn with a small stain on the collar where Katya's kiss mark hadn’t come out and pilling on the shoulder where it had been rubbed by Trixies guitar strap. Trixie is distinctly taller so Katya bunches the sleeves up freeing her hands to button it to where it falls on her mid thigh not bothering to change the lingerie she’d passed out in. Plus, looking at the fishnets she decides if she took them off now she’d only be left with an imprint of them on her skin so might as well keep them on. She could shower after coffee. 

 

In the mirror hung on the inside of the bedroom door Katya wipes the worst of the smudges away but her makeup is long past presentable. Her hair is too but there’s nothing short of a shower to be done about that, instead she grabs a beanie also belonging to Trixie and tucks it away with only the most unruly locks forcing their way free to frame her face. Evidently she’d been too drunk for the silky scarf her thick curls demanded too. 

 

Trixie had been the one who had suggested the scarf in the first place after seeing Katya tear at the tangled curls with her comb, but the drastic decrease in frizz forced Katya to admit it had been a good suggestion. Trixie was still usually the one looking after Katyas hair. When they’d met Katya's hair had been just brushing her shoulders and that was about as long as she ever let it get. Now it hung to Katya's elbows. It looked nice when it was maintained but Katya would have never had the patience alone so Trixie took care of it. It was nice letting someone fuss over your hair. And t was nice having someone to fuss over. Relaxing. Trixie loved doing it, she claimed that it reminded her of doing her little sisters hair when they were kids, that made her feel less homesick. Katya loved the feeling of Trixie massaging conditioner into her head and gently pulling it into soft plaits. She still considered cutting it off quite often but would forget the next time Trixie brushed it out and turned her to putty. She’d miss that too much if she cut it. 

 

Their cat, whom Trixie had creatively named Kitten, was apparently disturbed by Katya rifling through their discarded jackets for her wallet and woke with a gentle “prrur” and jumped down from her perch (a fancy pink castle shaped scratching post Trixie had insisted on). Katya watches Kitten stretch becoming aware of the ache in her own back “thats a good idea” adding a scratch under Kittens chin. She stretches her own back reaching up and twisting then down to touch the floor. The cat bats at Katya's fingers and butts its head into her palm. Katya scoops it up in one hand easily, tiny little thing that it is, and kisses the soft black tuft on the top of its head and cradles it to her chest. 

 

Scratching behind its ears Katya carries Kitten back the bedroom and plops it down on the bed still purring. A single arm emerges out of the nest of blankets to grab the cat around the middle and drag it under. It feels a little like an offering, and would be reminiscent of some kind of monster in a horror movie dragging their prey into a den if not for the soft “mrruh” Kitten let out followed by loud purring as she was tucked into the warmth. Katya laughs at her sleepy little family and leaves them to their sleep, they won’t be getting up anytime soon.

 

There's still a chill to the wind in the early spring air but the sun is a comfortable warmth that doesn’t quite reach the shadows yet. During a pause at a crossing Katya closes her eyes and tilts her head back and lets the sun heat her face. It’s a comfortable heat. Enjoyable. Bright enough for the light to tint through her eyelids. she feels her skin heat and knows it won’t be long before it’s bright enough that her skin tans and Trixies freckles become vibrant across her nose again.

 

The beep of the pedestrian crossing brings Katya back to her mission and away from thoughts of kissing that one freckle Trixie had on her collarbone. Inside the coffee shop there was no line but a few people at tables, some of whom glanced up instinctively when the bell above the door rung but quickly returned to what they been doing. By the looks of it mostly studying or fussing over children with icing stained faces. A barista had pushed out of the swinging kitchen door in time to meet Katya at the counter and greets her with a false cheerful smile and a rehearsed customer service voice, her hand poised over the till. 

 

Katya had memorised Trixies long order years ago and it effectively boiled down to smothering it in syrup and milk, a contrast to Katyas order of “coffee, black, hot, please.” 

 

“Will that be all today?” the barista says still writing on Trixies cup to specify the whipped cream and chocolate flake topping.

 

Leaning over the glass case of food Katya adds “a blueberry muffin and, oh, do you have any more of these cakepops?”

 

“Uh, i just put another batch in the oven it'll be about fifteen minutes till they're ready?” 

 

“Okay then five of those please”

 

Katya sits at the counter and sips her coffee while she waits. Scrolling through instagram to find that she and Trixie had made it into the background of several of violets photos of the night before and several more times made it into her instagram story. There was one from early in the night of them tucked into violets vip booth toasting their drinks to the camera, and another from later into the night that captured them spinning with hands Katya's hair streaming to one side and Trixie grinning widely. She screen records the latter to send to Trixie later. She also finds a selfie in her camera roll seemingly taken in the uber home with Katyas lipstick smuged over both of them staining a deep red. She posts it with a goofy caption about vampires and puts her phone away. The barista hands her Trixies half of the order with another cheerful smile wishing her a nice day in that same customer service voice and a more genuine smile when Katya dumps out her change into the tip jar. 

 

The walk back to the apartment goes by faster with Katya being more awake and wanting Trixies breakfast to arrive hot. When she unlocks the apartment it’s to the sight of Trixie wrapped in one of Katya's embroidered shawls. The kind she wore to feel extra witchy with folk art stitched into it and fringe on the edges. 

 

“That's my shawl” 

 

She's shuffling through the kitchen on fluffy socks with her pink watering can tending to the plants she dragged Katya to buy on the second of january two years ago on the insistence that “grow something” was her new year's resolution. They'd started with some succulents and worked their way up to flowers. their latest addition was a window box of herbs in the kitchen purchased this year based on Trixie's new resolution: “learn to cook.” Katya had contributed by painting the pots with bees and sunsets and blood stains (the latter only on her own venus flytrap and aloe veras) and making little stakes to label the herbs. 

 

Trixie turned “and that my shirt”

 

“And i'm doing a wonderful job looking after it so don't get mud,” Katya gestures vaguely towards first the plants “on that” then the shawl. 

 

The cat is hunched at the end of the bench crunching on her food, pausing when Katya leans to pet it as she passes and turning back to her dishes after, one of which was full of cat safe milk Trixie had insisted on.

 

“You spoil her” she wraps and arm around Trixie and ducks to tuck herself against Trixies side.

 

“You'd deprive her of milk after she warms your feet all winter? resign her to water and bread like a prisoner? Kitten is a treasured member of this family and i'll spoil her all i want” Trixie sets down the watering can and wraps an arm around Katya's shoulders.

 

“Yeah the love is extremely evident in the effort on her name, and it barely gets down to fifteen degrees she's not exactly saving us from frostbite,” Katya pulls away holding up the cup tray “come on, breakfast.”

 

Trixie sets the watering can on the sink and pads into the living room wrapping the shawl tighter around her shoulders. She drops herself heavily onto the couch that divided the open space into a kitchen and lounge and tips her head back to watch Katya. She hasn’t removed her eyeliner yet and the glitter in it flecks her brown eyes grey. Katya gathers napkins and plates before following and passing the food over the back of the couch so she could drape her arms on Trixies shoulders. 

 

“Thank you” Trixie kisses Katyas hand before taking the bag and drink tray. 

 

Katya kisses the top of Trixies head, the buzzed hair soft against her lips, and leaves behind a smear of lipstick. 


End file.
